


What Kind Of Man

by Grusalug



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dark Stiles, Emotionally Constipated Derek, Hurt Stiles, Insensitive Scott, Stiles Leaves the Pack, Team Human
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-03-25 04:03:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3795997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grusalug/pseuds/Grusalug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"After everything I've been through, everything I sacrificed for this, for YOU, Scott 'True Alpha' McCall--" The 'True Alpha' part flew from Stiles' mouth like venom, Scott flinching when it hit, " THIS is what you've reduced me to!" And at this, Stiles gestured to his whole body. Waited a beat. Gave his once upon a best friend and brother time to rake his eyes across the bandages, the casts, the bruising. "Collateral fucking damage Scott. You turned me into collateral damage."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Were Fucked Up By The Blame

**Author's Note:**

> I needed some hurt Stiles, some dark Stiles, some angry Stiles. So I wrote it. But seriously, it's pretty dark.

“You couldn’t help out your own neighbor, you couldn’t tell it to his face, you were fucked up by the blame”

Stiles was singing Matt Corby’s ‘Brother’ at the top of his lungs, cruising the backroads of Beacon Hills, headed to the Sherriff’s office to take his father one delicious and nutritious lunch and Jordan a decidedly less nutritious but no less delicious one too. If the song made him think of the strained relationship between himself and his True Alpha former best friend, well, so be it. Stiles was a sucker for musical symbolism.

After everything with the Nogitsune happened Scott, and by proxy, the pack had started pulling away from him. He’d thought it was just natural distance after the death of Allison and his recovery in the hospital but nothing really snapped back after Christmas vacation. He’d gradually been getting fewer and fewer phone calls, wasn’t really kept in the loop about the supernatural goings on, Scott didn’t even tell him that Derek got kidnapped or de-aged or whatever. He had to hear it from Lydia when she needed help piecing together some obscure piece of Aztec mythology.

At least she was still talking to him, and with Lydia came Danny and, quite surprisingly, Skype calls with Jackson. Despite his unaltered levels of douchebag, he could empathize with being turned into an uncontrollable killing machine. Malia was definitely still in Stiles’ corner too, though, from the pinched faces Scott made when he saw them together Stiles gathered that was a point of consternation. Whatever. Stiles wasn’t going to push it because there were silver linings to being shut out of the pack. His grades were improving which was great because – hello college tuition costs. His dad, though worried about the distance between his actual son and his more-or-less adopted son, was grateful for actually getting to spend time with Stiles without the lies and worry. He’d gotten to know Jordan, he refused to call someone who looked his age ‘Deputy Parrish’, down at the station who he sort of hates in a loving way. No one should be allowed to be that beautiful while also being a good person. Also, holy crap, Stiles had forgotten what it felt like not to wake up sore from the bruises received from fighting the monster of the week.

 _All in all, being shunned by the less human residents of Beacon Hills was not the worst thing that had ever happened,_ Stiles thought then winced.

_Probably shouldn't have thought that._

Honestly, by now you would think Stiles would know better but, nope. Because what could possibly go wrong in Beacon Hills on an abandoned stretch of road with a defenseless Stiles Stilinski?

_Let's ease on off the gas here, just in case._

Just then there was a flash of something far too large to be natural in Stiles' peripheral, a loud roar, the sound of crunching metal, then nothing but inky blackness.

"Somebody call out to your brother, he's calling out your name."

All in all, being shunned by the less human residents of Beacon Hills was not the worst thing that had ever happened . Until today. Today's the day that everything went to shit.


	2. You And I Both Know This House Is Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God damn it, Scott McCall.

The next thing Stiles can recall is the sound of beeping and a feeling of compression. Then darkness.

The next time he wakes it’s to the sound of weeping and mumbled words but he can’t make them out, there’s something muffling the sound. He slips back into slumber.

And so it goes, Stiles wakes and sleeps, each time never coming to full awareness. He knows something is wrong but his higher cognitive functions haven’t kicked into gear yet. Each period of wakefulness is just a little longer though, a little clearer. One time he here’s “induced coma” before he’s pulled back under, another time he hears “don’t you dare leave me alone” and that one makes his heart ache. The one that catapults him into wakefulness is a whispered “I’m sorry dude” that seems to set his soul on fire. Whatever else gets said is drowned out as all of the sudden Stiles is slapped back into his body and there’s nothing but pain and anguish and memory. All wrapped in a cocktail of sleep paralysis because he _can’t fucking move._ All he can do is lay there as his thoughts crystallize and his senses come back online and review what he knows. The jinx, the thing, the roar, the crash, the pain, that voice. Because Stiles knows that voice. And Stiles knew that roar. And he knows if he could open his eyes he’d know the uneven jaw, the puppy dog eyes, the brown skin, the shaggy hair, the drooping shoulders, the shuffling feet. He knows everything that is one Scott McCall.

What he doesn’t know is why he’s apologizing. Because if Scott’s apologizing then it means he’s done something extremely stupid. Again. And that makes Stiles even more enraged. Not that you could tell except by the ratcheting beep of his heart monitor because he still _can’t fucking move!_

 _What the hell did you do Scott?!_ Stiles silently rages.

Scott yells something but between the heart monitor and his fury, Stiles can’t make anything out. Then darkness.

 

* * *

 

 

“Come on son, please wake up.”, came the broken and tired voice of Sherriff John Stilinksi. His heart really couldn’t take what life kept throwing at him. He’d thought he’d lost his son to gangs or drugs only to think he was losing him to the same thing that killed his beloved Claudia but then he got him back, then werewolves which – surprise!- and things were good and now….this. Now this. His baby boy is lying in a hospital broken and no one can give him answers. He’s seen the crime scene, he knows this was not a natural crash but Scott was evasive at best when he tried to question him and really, when was the last time he’d even seen Scott around the house? Or heard Stiles mention hanging out with him? Something was not well in the kingdom and John was going to find out what. He needed to find Melissa.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles opened his eyes to bright sunshine, the sound of birds chirping and the incessant beeping of a heart monitor.

 _That’s right,_ he thought. _I’m in the hospital. Again._

He quickly took stock of the state of his injuries. Initial assessment? Not good. From what he could see and feel he had bruised if not broken ribs, his left forearm was in a cast, the right was bound and secured across his chest, his stomach was bandaged indicating trauma to the gut –

_I wouldn’t be surprised if I had abdominal surgery_

_-_ he was cathetered, his left leg was surprisingly unbandaged but he could feel the deep tissue bruising in his thigh, right thigh was bandaged and his right shin was in a cast. Who knows about his feet. He couldn’t see them and couldn’t really feel them either.

 _I feel like that’s actually the most frightening part, actually._ thought Stiles.

He wanted to call out for someone, anyone, but after taking stock of himself he was already tired and ready to drift back into oblivion. Besides, who knew how long he’d been under, his voice might not even work. Letting out a deep breath from his nose, Stiles let himself drift off.

Fate, apparently had other plans. That cruel bitch.

A crash as the door bounced off the wall. “You’re awake!”

Stiles went stock still at the crash and slowly opened his eyes at the exclamation. Turned his head at the heaving breaths. Squinted in annoyance at the sight. Let out a heavy sigh for the shit storm he knew was coming.

_God damn it, Scott McCall._

 


	3. Confuse What I Feel With Something That's Real

“Excuse me, can you tell me where Melissa McCall is?”

If there was anyone who could help him figure out just what the hell was going on, it was Melissa. God knows their kids would let things go from bad to worse and only get the adults involved when there was no other option and everyone was about to die. Better to drag it out of them before things got dire.

 _Or more dire than they already are._ thought John.

Things were really touch and go there for a minute. The blood loss alone from the multiple compound fractures could – better not go there right now. For the moment, Stiles is stable and John intends to keep him that way, by any means necessary.

Turning the corner he was greeted by the sight of the only woman he could ever imagine any type of life with after his beloved Claudia.”John,” she said and rushed over searching his face. “Is everything alright? Stiles’ condition was stable last I checked.”

John felt a rush of affection, she really loved Stiles like her own. Just as he loved Scott. Boneheaded as they both may be. “No no, everything was alright when I left, I cam looking for you because something is going on with our boys Melissa and I can’t sit back and go through this again. Not from the sidelines.” John watched as Melissa’s face clouded with more worry. “I thought it was strange not to see Stiles around these past few weeks but I figured he was recovering from everything that happened with the Nogitsune and giving Scott space to breath.” John nodded his head, “That’s what I thought too, at first, but it’s been weeks Melissa and Stiles doesn’t talk about Scott, doesn’t call him or get calls from him, he’s been spending more and more time at home or with Malia and less and less time in the woods or showing up at crime scenes.” At that Melissa grew alarmed. From the very beginning Stiles has been in the very thick of everything going on. To hear otherwise meant something was very wrong.” Okay, we’re going to get to the bottom of this,” Melissa said decisively. “I’ll call Scott after —“

But just then Melissa’s beeper paged. She unclipped it from her waist and glanced at the screen. Her face paled. “That’s Stiles room,” she whispered horrifies and took off at at dead run. John stared after her in shock for all of one second before his mind could process what Melissa just said and the implications behind her face.

_Oh God, let him be alright._

 

* * *

 

“Dude, you scared us all to death!” Scott exclaimed, getting all up in Stiles’ personal space. Stiles does not have the patience for this. “Well, the only one halfway to doing the deed with lady death was me so I’m pretty sure I had the shorter end of the stick here Scotty boy.” Stiles quipped. “Dude, not cool.” whined Scott.

 _Seriously Scott? You do not get to get offended or pouty when I’m the one wrapped up like a mummy._ Something dark wiggled in the back of Stiles’ head at that thought but he resolutely pushed it away.

“Look Scott, I’m seriously tired and not in the mood so could you just –“ but Scott wasn’t even paying attention anymore because the door was opening and in walked Kira smiling shyly and holding a miniature bonsai. “Kira!” Scott bounced, literally bounced, over to her. “Hey Scott, Stiles. I brought you a bonsai.” Stiles was confused. “Uhhh…..thanks? I guess?” Seriously, Kira was nice and all but it’s not like they were really friends, what the hell was she even doing here, bearing tiny plants no less? “Yeah, I felt really bad when I heard what happened since it was me that downed it.”

_Whaaaaat is this crazy kit talking about?_

His confusion must have shown on his face because she clarified, “You know, the griffin that you hit with your jeep.” Stiles’ blood ran cold. The world stopped for a minute and his heart monitor was blissfully silent as Stiles’ heart ceased beating. “What.” It wasn’t even a question. Derek would be proud. “Oh yeah dude, that’s what I totally meant to tell you when I came in here!” Scott continued on excitedly, completely oblivious to Stiles’ emotional state. Kira at least seemed to understand that shit was about to hit the fan and nervously set the bonsai on the side table in a sun beam. “I think I’ll let you two talk.” she muttered before quickly exiting. “So yeah,” continued Scott, “we’ve been totally taking on a griffin that wanted to set up a nest on the stump of the Nemeton which would totally be bad so we’d planned on capturing it and having Dr. D relocate it but that didn’t go so well because it can fly. So then we decided to have Kira bring it down with her lightning foxfire which was awesome because she hit it right in the wing and it couldn’t stay airborne anymore. So now it’s on foot only it had already flown pretty far away from where we’d planned to catch it. We were tracking it, herding it deeper into the preserve when your jeep came around that bend and wham! nailed that sucker. It was only stunned though so Dr. Deaton is sending it to Wales or something like that now.”

Stiles stayed completely silent through Scott’s whole tale. Waiting to hear, what? An apology? An expression of concern? Stiles didn’t know but he stayed silent and waited. And when nothing came he spoke.

“Are you fucking kidding me.” Apparently Stiles was out of question marks today. “Yeah dude, I know! How fucking weird was that?” Scott asked, completely misreading the situation as always. That poor, dumb potato. “Do you mean to tell me,” Stiles enunciated slowly and clearly, “that I almost _died_ because you couldn’t wrangle a fucking bird.” And now Scott was getting the picture. Which meant Scott was getting defensive. “Well, to be fair, it was like half a lion! And we couldn’t just kill it Stiles! Besides, you always hit stuff with your jeep anyways so isn’t it kind of the same?”

_I know he did NOT just –_

Stiles snapped.

“NO Scott! It isn’t the same! When I hit stuff with my fucking jeep it is usually a fucking choice I have made regarding my personal safety and the safety of those I hold near and dear to my heart. It is also not done from a perpendicular angle while moving at 65 mph so no, Scott, It is not the fucking same!” Stiles really wishes he could move his body because screaming while lying down isn’t giving him the satisfaction he desires.

“Look, Stiles,” Scott began while wearing his concerned ‘I know best face’. It’s a stupid face. “I know you’re upset but—“

“Why would I be upset Scott? Why would I possibly be upset? Is it because you’ve once again, displayed how inept of an alpha you are?” Scott made a confused outraged face. It, too, was a stupid face. “Confused Scotty boy? Let me break it down. Where was Lydia during all this? Hmmm. Because there is no way in hell this plan was hers. So you naturally decided to follow your heart because Scott McCall’s heart always points due North to all that is good and right in the world. Isn’t that right Scotty boy? Oh wait, no. Because every time you do something without consulting the many people around you who are vastly more intelligent or experienced than you we end up with a situation like this.”

During his tirade, Scott’s face had gone from shocked to shamed to upset before finally settling on angry. “We all knew the risks of what would happen when the Nemeton was reactivated. You of all people should remember that! We knew it would be a hard fight so stop playing trying to paint me as the bad guy Stiles.”

_Did he really just say what I think he said?_

Stiles thought he snapped before. Apparently he was wrong. Snapping doesn’t occur until someone implies that you managed to forget one of the most traumatic experiences of your life where you were trapped in your own mind by a thousands year old fox demon and watched as it brutally attacked and murdered your friends, comrades, and loved ones. Huh.

Scott seemed to realize what he said a second too late, always a second too late, and his face lost color. “Stiles, I didn’t mean—“

“Shut up.” One whispered one and Scott flinched back like he’d been slapped across the face. “You think I’ve forgotten? You think I wasn’t aware of the risks I took? Who do you think kept you alive all this time, kept everyone alive? I’m not in this hospital bed because I took a risk because this had nothing to do with me! I wasn’t part of this because you SHUT ME OUT”

As Stiles got louder and louder, the room got colder and colder. The shadows seemed to thicken and gather around Stiles which made no sense because just outside the window the sun was shining bright and beautiful.

“Stiles, you –“

“No Scott, look at me. LOOK AT ME!” Stiles was full on yelling now, his voice taking on a timbre they were both intimately familiar with. That voice promised chaos. That voice promised suffering. That voice promised the void.

All the electronics in the room came to a sudden halt, stuck in time like a mosquito in amber. The only light in the room seemed to emanate from Stiles’ eyes and the bandages wrapped around his body.

"After everything I've been through, everything I sacrificed for this, for YOU, Scott 'True Alpha' McCall--" The 'True Alpha' part flew from Stiles' mouth like venom, Scott flinching when it hit, " THIS is what you've reduced me to!" And at this, Stiles gestured to his whole body. Waited a beat. Gave his once upon a best friend and brother time to rake his eyes across the bandages, the casts, the bruising. "Collateral fucking damage Scott. You turned me into collateral damage."

Scott was frantically looking around the room, red Alpha eyes glowing, claws out, wolf responding to an unseen threat, more concerned with what was happening than what Stiles was saying. Faintly, as if from thousand of miles away, someone was banging on the door screaming. “Stiles are you – is this – you’ve gotta stop!” yelled Scott. “If the Nogitsune is back we’ve –“

“Are you for real right now?” screamed Stiles, eyes blazing. “Get out! GET OUT!”

Stiles pushed with everything that his mind could give that his body couldn’t right now, pushed with all the belief in his body, pushed willing this colossal douchebag to not be in his space. Everything came to nothing for one brief moment and then several things happened at once.

The shadows whirled around Stiles and burst in all directions –

The electronics all blew creating a cascade of sparks --

The door burst off the handle, clipping Kira on the shoulder and sending her into the wall –

The glass of the window shattered, the glass flying –

And Scott McCall was flung by unseen forces from the third story hospital room to the ground below.

_Oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck, oh FUCK. What the hell is going on?!?!_

And then the panic set in.


	4. I Don't Even Know If I Believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia was going to flay Scott McCall alive
> 
> Lydia POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the mini hiatus, life got in the way.

Lydia Martin did not like being blindsided. She did not like being caught unawares. She did not like being used, manipulated, or being kept ignorant. Despite that, it seemed like for the past year and a half that was all that happened. First werewolves, then Peter and mind control, Jackson and the kanima, her being a banshee, and now…. Now Scott McCall thinks he can outmaneuver her. Being the Alpha has really gone to his head if he thinks he’s anywhere near that challenge. Stiles, maybe…..

Thinking of Stiles brought Lydia’s mind back to the true source of her frustration. That day Stiles crashed Lydia screamed his name. She hadn’t been prepared, nothing big was going on that she was aware of so when the scream ripped out of her chest she didn’t have time to marshal her forces and put herself together because she had no clue what had just happened to the only boy she could be all of her self around, the one who’d replaced Allison as her best friend and confidante.

By the time she arrived on the scene they’d already taken Stiles’ body away. She saw the blood, the mangled remains of the jeep, the sad faces of the remaining officers and she just broke down there in the street. It was not her finest moment but Stiles was….gone. She was the Wailing Woman and everything she loved was being taken from her by that which made her who she was. But Lydia, even in grief, was the Goddess Stiles adored so details of the scene didn’t go unnoticed by her razor sharp mind. The fact that she screamed for Stiles and the state of the wreckage most likely meant this was a supernatural death. And where there was a Supernatural death in Beacon Hills then a certain werewolf pack was sure to be found.

It was later she found out from Parrish that Stiles was still alive, barely, but alive. Technically, his heart had stopped on scene but paramedics had been able to resuscitate him. Lydia was confused and relieved, shed never really screamed a death wail for someone who’d lived but that was a thought for another day. At that moment she needed to find Scott and find out what happened.

He avoided her. After their first confrontation where she asked him point blank what idiotic thing he’d done now, he muttered some nonsense and kept clear of her. Made sure the rest of the pack steered clear too. Kira didn’t seem to know what was really going on so Lydia didn’t really put the pressure on her but she was getting tired of Scott’s antics. And Malia had regressed with Stiles out of commission and Lydia didn’t really like wrangling her.

So she’d been doing some digging of her own. Stiles would have been proud. She’d cross referenced some suspicious tracks she’d found in the forest near the crash site with data from the bestiaries and a theoretical model she had Danny build of the remains of the wreckage and the speed she hypothesized Stiles may have been going on that stretch of road. Her findings pointed to something large and avian with some mammalian characteristics, most likely a small sphinx, a roc or a griffin. Either way she was pissed. A giant bird of legend shows up and she isn’t contacted? Especially if it were a sphinx, goodness knows none of them have the brains to tackle one of those questions!

Regardless, Lydia was going to flay Scott alive, as soon as she slept off this persistent headache that just popped up a little while ago. Seriously, it was like someone just stuffed her head in a high altitude box of something, the pressure was ridiculous. And where was that buzzing coming from? She knows there aren’t any flies in there. Wait, she’d heard that sound before but it’s impossible... Electricity. And her head, she’d felt this pressure before, when she’d gone inside Stiles' mind but there’s no way. That chapter was over and done with and…

…but there was no denying what her mind was telling her, what her heart was telling her, what her power was telling her. She’d felt like this before only once in her life.

Her head whipped towards the window, hair whipping around in a strawberry blonde veil, momentarily obscuring her vision and all she could see was red, red, red.

She could feel him,

                                his pain,

                                              his fear,

                                                           his power.

“Stiles” she whispered.

 _Nogitsune_ , the voices whispered back.

 

Lydia screamed.


	5. No, It Don't Break Even

For the past fifteen years or so Melissa McCall has been sure that her first heart attack would be Stiles related. True, some things over the years have made her question that belief – like events with Rafael, but she never really lost the nagging feeling. So as she ran through the halls to his room, recalling the code blue flash across her pager, she thought ‘This is it’. The scene awaiting her didn’t alleviate any of that fear. As she neared his room Kira was sprawled in the hallway, out cold, possible head injury, shoulder slightly off angle, probably dislocated. The lights were flickering on and off, some blown out of the sockets. The door to his room had been blown off the hinges and was sprawled on the ground.

“Stiles” she heard a terrified voice whisper beside her. She’d forgotten all about the Sheriff in her haste, hadn’t paused to think about how he might react seeing his baby boy once again snatched from him in the same place he lost his wife. “John, maybe you shouldn’t…” she trailed off catching sight of the mayhem the room was in.

Lights were all blown.

Glass from the window littered the floor.

Sheets and blinds lay scattered as if tossed by a mighty wind.

And there, in the midst of sparking and malfunctioning equipment, lay the broken body of Stiles Stilinski.

Looking confused and sheepish but otherwise no worse than when she saw him last.

What.

“What.” She said looking around. Because at this point Melissa didn’t have the energy for question marks. In her peripheral she saw John slump against the wall and tiredly run one hand down his face. Stiles cringed. “Hey there Mama McCall, Pops! What’s shakin’?” Only Stiles. “Really kid?,” the Sheriff murmured in a defeated voice. Stiles cringed again. Melissa could see the aborted movements of his limbs as he fought the urge to gesticulate wildly as usual. “It’s not like I did it on purpose! Not that I really even know what ‘it’ is because I don’t really know what happened yet. And Scotty will totally be fine. A little fall like that is nothing to our resident True Alpha. Yayyy werewolf healing!”

“WHAT?!?!” she screeched.

Stiles cringed again. It was starting to become his thing, cringing. “Oh yeah, I may have thrown Scott out of the window. Heh heh…..heh.” He frowned. “At least…..I think it was me.”

Melissa pinched her nose. She felt like one of those ridiculous girls on television because she literally couldn’t even at that moment. The Sheriff had a similar expression on his face. “Alright. Okay. I’m going to go check on my son…” leaving the _‘who you tossed out the window’_ unsaid “…and you can talk to your dad about whatever it is you did or did not do.”

Exit Mama McCall.

“So,” started the Sheriff. And Stiles cringed again. Totally his thing now, no doubt about it. Before he could even start formulating an excuse however, his attention was drawn to the open doorway from which could be heard the steady click of heels on tile drawing ever closer.

_Click, click, click._

The Sheriff watched as a myriad of expressions crossed his sons face before settling on panic.

_Click, click, click._

“Pops! Pops, you gotta hide me!” The panic and fear alarmed the Sherriff who’d just managed to calm down.

_Click, click, click._

“Son, what’s going on. I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s going on!”

_Click, click, click._

“No time, she’s almost here.” Stiles looked into his eyes forlornly. “I love you Dad.”

_Click, click, click._

John’s heart lurched in his chest.

_Click, click, click,_ pause.

They both turned to the doorway.

_“Stiles”_ hissed a venomous voice. Stiles pasted on a mischievous grin. “Lydia, my moon and stars! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

John shook his head disgustedly and left the room muttering something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I can’t even.’


End file.
